


Nightmares

by keeplovinanyway



Series: your mental health and the way it makes me feel [4]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental illness AU, Suicidal Thoughts, read notes for more explanation and trigger warnings if you're unsure whether to read or not!, this is a processing kind of story. not a romanticizing one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 10:48:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11462019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keeplovinanyway/pseuds/keeplovinanyway
Summary: Tonight is one of those nights where Phil jerks awake, heart pounding, but Dan is right there, and he calms himself with toast and tee. It’s a night where he stares down at the city nightlife, letting himself think about how it hurts, how it is allowed to hurt, how it really is an awful experience for a partner to know that your boyfriend wants to be dead sometimes._______Phil wakes up from a nightmare in which Dan attempts suicide, and contemplates how Dan's suicidal thoughts have affected him over the years.





	Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a series in which I write Phil's experience as the mentally healthy partner of a Dan with sever mental illnesses. It's completely AU and only puts Dan and Phil into those situations, I don't think they _are in_ those situations.
> 
> here's more explanation on what will be written about (if you're not into spoilers of any kind, move on now!)  
> \- quite a graphic and, for Phil, terrifying dream that involves blood and cuts. skip the first long italic part if you want to read the story anyway.  
> \- glimpses into what Dan's suicidal thoughts are like  
> \- thoughts about grief and funerals  
> \- some unhealthy relationship dynamics that Phil thinks back on  
> \- healthier dynamics now!  
> \- Dan is in therapy

As a child, Phil’s nightmares were confusing and he always had them several times.

There’s one where he woke up in the night and needed the toilet, but he couldn’t find his parents anywhere, and on the way back up the stairs there were suddenly sheets of paper hanging of the banister, sheets that had eyes on them and words and moved as if there was wind, and Phil felt alone and terrified. Another one that he had multiple times was one he didn’t actually mind that much, because it started so nice. He was in their garden and behind some bushes he could see a lion. But then his dad went to go behind the bushes because they were playing with a ball and Phil didn’t want to yell to warn him, so he always stood there frozen, hoping that nothing would happen.

The nightmares faded at some point, and as a teenager he prided himself in never really having any. None that really impacted him, anyway.

Now though, now Phil has nightmares frequently again. They always go something like this:

_Phil was out, and he comes back, and the flat is silent. Too silent. He feels that something is off but as he climbs the stairs he can’t make it, they seem longer and longer the higher he gets, and somehow he knows he shouldn’t make a sound. He sees the door to the bathroom from where he is struggling to move forward. It’s tilted open and glows, it’s dark everywhere else, he can barely see. But the door glows and it’s red, it’s way too red, everything is red, it’s on the stairs and- Phil looks down to his feet to see that they’re covered in it too, it’s blood. Behind him the blood fills up the stairwell and Phil starts to run. He reaches the door and there’s a sound that doesn’t stop, it’s echoing horribly in his ears and makes him feel sick. He doesn’t want to do it but his head tilts itself to the side, he can’t stop the movement. And there’s Dan. Dan is in the bathtub and it’s filled with blood, and he is so pale, suddenly he opens his eyes and they are red too- Phil sees the cuts all over his body, that’s where the blood is coming from. Dan just looks at him and Phil can’t move._

Phil wakes up with a start, his heart pounding rapidly in his chest, terror flooding his veins. His mind is filled with the images of the dream, horrifying in their clarity. Dan- Dan is next to him, he is sleeping, curled in on himself. Phil takes another shaky breath and allows himself to relax. He is glad Dan slept here tonight.

He hates this. He hates those dreams. He hates thinking about death and losing people and losing Dan.

Phil has known that Dan is suicidal for what, a little over two years now? Not _is_ suicidal, no, Dan always tells him he wouldn’t ever do that to him. But somehow that doesn’t do anything to soothe Phil’s nerves.

When Dan had first told him, it was after one of his therapist appointments. “I had to sign a contract,” he’d said, “that I would still come next session.”

“What do you mean?” Phil had asked. “Why did she want a contract? Is that normal?”

Dan had shrugged and turned away from him to sort the groceries into the fridge.

“Just so that I… would still be alive by then.”

Phil had stood frozen as he tried to comprehend- and he did, he did understand it, but it didn’t properly register to his brain. As Dan moved on to another topic, quickly as though to not make a big thing out of this, Phil shoved the thought away to the back of his mind.

That night, he’d had his first nightmare. He’d apparently sobbed during it, and Dan had woken him up and Phil had told him, told him how scared he was. He’d let himself be held by Dan and tried not to feel bad that the person he was upset over had to comfort him, had let himself be told that Dan wouldn’t do it, that he just- wanted to sleep and never wake up, sometimes. That life just sometimes seemed too hard. Phil had only clung on tighter.

They had been unhealthy for a long time, them together, Phil can see that now. Understands now the worried expression his family and friends got when he shared anything about him and Dan in that regard.

Phil’s mind is wandering now, in a way he doesn’t usually let himself during the days. He just hates how all of this makes him feel. But after nightmares, he is already in a bad mood, and too worked up to continue sleeping. So he does what he usually does when it happens.

He shifts slowly, lifting the sheets and crawling out of them, tapping quietly over to the door. Dan looks peaceful as he sleeps, and- and Phil’s heart clenches at that. He can’t help it, he tiptoes back over to what has become Dan’s side of the bed, crouches down next to him.

Dan’s face is smooth tonight. It isn’t always, sometimes even in his sleep there’s deep lines carving out a physical representation of the worry into his features. But as Phil tentatively ghosts his lips over Dan’s cheek, and then presses another soft kiss to his forehead, Dan only dimples lightly.

“I love you,” he tells him. His voice is whispery light in the moonlit room. “I am so glad you’re in my life.” _Don’t leave me,_ is what he doesn’t say, _don’t you dare ever act on those thoughts._

Dan smacks his lips and shuffles around a bit, and Phil sighs softly as he shifts back onto his feet and stands up. His knuckles crack. He’s getting old, he thinks.

He goes for the kitchen, only briefly stops at the top of the stairs to look down to the bathroom. The images of his dream are fading already, but seeing the slightly ajar door makes him shudder and he quickly turns away.

The process of making himself tea (only at night; Phil only ever drinks tea at night when he needs something soothing. He’s really becoming like his parents after all.) and toast is calming. There’s no sound but the soft bubbling of the water in the kettle, the plop as the toast is ready, the scratching of his butter knife against the warm bread, the ticking of the door on their kitchen wall. Phil doesn’t think during this time. He always lets himself have those quiet moments.

It’s only when he sits down on a chair by the windows in the lounge and looks down onto the cars sparsely driving by that he picks his thoughts back up again.

He knows he’s not good at confrontation, never has been. This is true for conflict with other people, but also for his own terrifying thoughts.

After that one night, where Phil had cried into Dan’s shirt, they had rarely ever talked about it. Sometimes Phil brought it up, timidly, asking whether Dan was still always signing that contract. A year or so, Dan always said yes.

Dan also never brought it up in a serious way. He made self-deprecating jokes about it, that he couldn’t even find the will to live, that he just wanted to sleep forever, that he should die. Phil’s laugh at that was forced now, unlike before. It all just reminded him of how this was real. How Dan really wanted that.

It took them months before they sat down and had a proper conversation. They’d both been healing, both been getting better slowly. Dan had told Phil lots about his therapy sessions and about his feelings, and Phil had shared support and his own struggles.

Apart from that first night where Dan had first acknowledged his suicidal thoughts to Phil, and Phil had had his first nightmare about it, there’s only one other night that Phil remembers in such bright clarity.

It was just after Christmas, and Phil was with his family. Dan had been too, but he’d gone back to London and their flat earlier. Phil always felt guilty about that, but Dan didn’t want to come visit the Lester’s either, and he said it was fine.

They were texting, as they always were. Phil’s connection was bad, his parent’s WiFi not reaching to their living room, and he didn’t have much service out on the countryside. Dan was upset, and Phil was trying to console him, ask him what was wrong, all while in the middle of a bigger family gathering.

That was when he got that one message.

Phil had left the room, desperately hoping no one saw, he couldn’t deal with that right now, he was shaking. He called Dan, but he didn’t pick up. He called again, and again, and he was crying now, terrified and helpless and he _needed_ to do something, he needed to help, what if- what if Dan-

His phone vibrated in his hand, there was a new message.

There was relief flushing through him rapidly, relief and then a little bit of anger and helplessness.

 

Phil hated this, he hated hated hated this. He’d never been more scared, felt more alone, and more helpless in knowing what to do. He asked himself what would be the right thing here. He should go home, shouldn’t he? Right now. To see Dan, to make sure he was safe, to take care of him. That’s what a good boyfriend would do.

He tried to. He already searched up connections, thought of taxi fees, planned out at least one way to make it possible. But Dan didn’t end up allowing him to come. It was late, it was ridiculous, he’d said. It wasn’t necessary.

Phil argued with that. But Dan- Dan threatened to actually go through with it, if Phil insisted on coming this evening still. It’s something Phil now recognizes as the terrible, manipulative behaviour it was, but back then he could do nothing but accept it, even though it agonized him. He’s glad that this is the only time Dan has ever done this, or even ever expressed such serious suicidal thoughts to Phil.

Still, that night goes down as the worst one ever in Phil’s personal history. He’d managed to get Dan to agree to get on Skype eventually, and he read to him the Stephen King novel he currently had with him while Dan silently sobbed into a pillow, his webcam only showing their bedroom ceiling.

Phil wouldn’t wish that night on anyone.

His tee has gone lukewarm in his hands as he’s let himself revisit one of these nightmares that have become real. Well, it wasn’t actually one of his nightmares, but it sure had felt like one when it happened.

His nightmares usually only cover the things he doesn’t dare think about in real life. He can’t even count the many times and varieties in which he’s seen Dan die, found him dead somewhere, has seen it happen from afar unable to stop, has been too late.

He has other nightmares too. Nightmares that seem terribly realistic, and they leave him feeling worse than the actual death nightmares. In those ones, Dan is already dead. He doesn’t see it, doesn’t see him anywhere. Sometimes he is at his funeral. He sees himself standing in a church, talking about what a great friend he was, anger and despair at the unbothered faces in the community, at all those people who never cared about Dan and made his childhood years hell. Phil has watched himself go back to Dan’s old house, standing in his room, sorting through all his things and picking out some that he wants to keep. He’s felt Dan’s parents being there, and seen himself hide away evidence that Dan was bisexual and his boyfriend, heart hurting in his chest, but wanting to not out him even in the face of death. Those kind of dreams are the worst. Because no matter how many times Phil’s mind has forced him to go through those possibilities (almost as if it’s wanting to prepare him, he thinks in his darkest moments), it always feels worse than it ever did before. It’s as if he thinks yeah, he could manage Dan’s death, he could be okay. Only to then be reminded that no he couldn’t, not ever. It would feel so much worse than he ever could imagine. When he wakes up from those kind of dreams, he never falls asleep again that night.

Tonight- Tonight’s not been that kind of night.

Tonight is one of those where he jerks awake, heart pounding, but Dan is right there, and he calms himself with toast and tee. It’s a night where he stares down at the city nightlife, letting himself think about how it hurts, how it is allowed to hurt, how it really is an awful experience for a partner to know that your boyfriend wants to be dead sometimes. It does hurt, and it is horrible, and Phil is allowed to cry. He tells himself that, over and over, as his tears silently drip down his cheeks.

It feels good, in a way. Those nights feel healing to Phil, and he thinks that maybe he should let himself process those feelings more consciously sometimes. Maybe he wouldn’t get that many nightmares that way.

He sits there and cries for a while, simply aching. _It’s okay_ , his own mind soothes, _you’ll be okay._ He will be, he knows it. Dan won’t kill himself, even though a part of Phil always seems to try to be prepared for that eventuality. But he won’t. The longer they live together, the longer Dan stays with him even if he’s still sometimes having those thoughts, even if he still has weeks where he has to sign that contract again- the more time passes, the more Phil trusts.

 _I wouldn’t do that to you_ , he hears Dan say in his mind, and with the months that he’s carried that memory with him, he slowly starts to really believe it.

There’s a noise behind Phil, and he looks back to see Dan in the doorway.

“Phil,” he mumbles sleepily. “You weren’t in bed-” A yawn cuts off his sentence, and Phil chuckles as he wipes away some stray tears from his cheeks.

“Come here.”

Dan stumbles his way to Phil adorably, peeks out of the window. They both watch for a while, leaning into each other. There’s a group of young friends on the sidewalk across the street, presumably going home from partying, and their happily drunk voices can be heard as a soft mumble over the sound of the cars driving by.

Dan turns his head around, observing Phil quietly. His eyes look black in the moonlight.

“Are you alright?” he asks eventually.

Phil nods, smile soft as he looks back. “Am now.”

There’s something complicated flickering across Dan’s face for a moment. “Nightmare again?”

“Mhm,” Phil sighs, ducking his head. “Yeah.”

Dan reaches for his hand, his grip firm and determined. Phil thinks that he surely is quite infatuated, if he can tell determination just from the specific press of a hand against his own.

“I won’t leave you.” There’s a bit of guilt in Dan’s voice maybe, a bit of pain, but mostly a whole lot of love and care, and Phil melts. “I won’t. I’ll be still here when you’re gray and old and I’ll feed you mashed popcorn and watered down Ribena, whether you want to or not.”

Phil laughs, slightly watery. “Alright,” he whispers, “alright.”

Dan gathers him into his arms, and they just stand there for a while, body against body and faces tucked into each others necks. They are pretty much the same height now, although Dan threatens to grow even more, and Phil fears it might be true.

It’s a few minutes, maybe, until Dan strokes a hand across Phil’s back and yawns again. “Bed?” he asks. “M’falling asleep standing here.”

When they’ve tucked each other under the covers again, Phil presses his lips against Dan’s. He’s warm and soft and caring and alive and Phil is so, so happy about where they’re at as a couple now.

“I love you,” he murmurs. “So much.”

Dan’s smile is sleepy and just as warm as the rest of him. “You too,” he mumbles as his breathing evens out already.

Phil keeps watching for a while, just because he can. He falls asleep to the press of Dan’s knee against his thigh and the soft snores that he’s grown so accustomed to. This time, he dreams of puppies. This is a dream that he hopes will come true.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I am so happy to be able to share those stories with the fandom!
> 
> If you feel affected by this, be it more by Phil's or by Dan's experiences: Know that this is okay, and you're not alone, and that there are ways for you to feel better. Many of them, to be exact.  
> If you need help right now, [call one of these numbers](http://www.suicide.org/international-suicide-hotlines.html) or your local emergency number.  
> Reach out for help if you need to. There is no shame in doing that.  
> If you don't know who to talk to, feel free to message me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/heartfeltoakley) or [Tumblr](https://we-are-inimitable.tumblr.com/).
> 
> If you want to leave a comment or a Kudos, you'd definitely make me smile :) Hope you have a good day!


End file.
